Bus Report #260

Rode the bus tonight with Ebony.
We were both exhausted and our conversation reflected this.
One of us would talk, pause, pause, pause, then the other one of us would reply.

I caught a 38L from downtown and sat close to the window listening to the last ever episode of KQEDs Pacific Time program. It's gone off the air. I am sad, sad.

The bus ride was fast, partially due to the driver skipping stops and not bothering to stop even when people were running to catch the bus.

I got out at 6th and decided to walk.
There was a pack of us walking up 6th to Clement.
I walked almost next to a gangly teenage boy and a few paces ahead of a couple of the sewing ladies.
Clement Street felt subdued. I couldn't tell if it was because of the weather or the change in the light.
The guy from the meditation center who I see all over town playing guitar was stationed at 7th and Clement. He was playing guitar and singing.
No one was paying attention to him.

Further down Clement a cop was writing a ticket to one of the homeless guys who is usually crashed out in a doorway or flat on his stomach in the middle of the street.
The cop didn't say anything, just scribbled.
The man, who gets sicker and worse off every day, babbled incoherently to the cop.
I thought, this guy doesn't need a ticket, he needs a bed in a clinic.
There is something horribly wrong with him. Has been for years.

I kept walking.
As I got close to my block another pair of homeless guys came by. They were both sunburned bright red in the face. One of them pushed a shopping cart while the other one ambled ahead, clutching a brown paper bag.
The one pushing the shopping cart saw me and said, "hey, beautiful, where you going?"
I ignored him and kept walking.
His friend said, "shut up, Murray, and lets get going."